Driving Nails Into My Soul
by YouKinkySonOfABitch
Summary: It's driving nails into my soul, angels from my door. What have I become? Victoria has always been different, special even. What happens when she runs into the Kings of being different? Rated M for violence, gore, and sexual content. Dean/OC fic
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_~I was the light, I was the quiet heart. I was the place we used to dwell~_

In theory, running is just about as useful as throwing a rock at a bear. Sometimes, the rock is enough, and you can escape free from harm into the loving arms of your family or friends. But other times, you're just going to make it mad.

Every story has a beginning, and mine just so happens to be at the end. The end of my life.

And honestly? I'm glad. My life was never worth anything anyways. I was that girl who sat at the back of the glass, either taking notes or doodling on the sides of my paper. People told her that if she only tried harder, she could make something of her life, but she didn't believe in going out there and making history. She thought the world would come to her.

Except it never did, and she died alone.

But I didn't die alone. I was never alone my whole life. It's just that I never noticed their presence.

They followed me around everywhere, chasing after me as I chased after the bus. Buying groceries with me as I bought groceries. Maybe you think that I have a stalker or a creepy man in his mid thirties wanted to kill me in his basement. But it's quite the opposite, actually.

They weren't actually _people_ who followed me. They were_ things._

They didn't have bodies, but they could possess one. They didn't have tongues, but they could whisper dirty little evils into my ear. They didn't have legs, but they followed me everywhere. They didn't have eyes or ears, yet they knew my every move and where I was going.

It all started when I was small, when I had my very first near-death experience.

I was in my room one night, when black smoke wafted through my window. Slithering along the ceiling and out the cracks of my door. I hid myself underneath my sheets, drawing them just past my nose, curious as ever, yet terribly afraid. My eyes were wide and bug like, my heart pounding in my chest, but I still got out of bed.

My father was waiting for me outside my door. Except, it wasn't my father. My father had blue eyes which sparkled green in the natural light. This man's eyes were black. And not the crayon color black, either. It was the type of black that represented sin; a stain on the soul. Something so dark, only God himself could lighten it.

This man bent down to my height, smiling, though his eyes showed no joy. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He asked me, rubbing his finger along my soft cheeks, "What's your name, darling."

"Victoria." I replied in a soft voice.

This thing made my father smile, and pick me up into his arms. I took one last look at my bedroom, it's robin's egg blue walls were drawing me back. I was confused and frightened. Where was this man taking me? What did he do to Daddy?

"Daddy's not here right now." He sang, reading my mind, "So leave a message at the beep. _Beep._" He laughed and set me down on the couch. "Now, you just sit here like a good little girl. I'll be right back."

The man went upstairs, where my mother's screams echoed down towards me. My head whipped to the front door, where more black smoke worked it's slithering tentacles toward the sound of the screams. I tilted my head and called to them.

"What are you doing to my Mommy?" I asked, and they chattered among themselves in a language I didn't understand. Some flew past me and up the stairs, others floated in front of my face, circling my head like a dark storm cloud._  
_

_'You can see us?'_ They finally asked, and I nodded. More whispers.

The man came down from upstairs. He had stained Daddy's shirt a dark crimson, and I stared at the blood dripping from his fingers. Mommy had stopped screaming. He looked at the black swirls, then at me, and talked to them in an angry tone.

"What are you waiting for? Find her a home."

_'But, Sir. She's special.'_

He looked at me, still sitting on the couch, swinging my legs that didn't reach the floor just yet.

"I know."

They sent me to an orphanage; this three story building with moldy bricks and rusty swing-sets. The kids my age were as sinister as the men in my home all those years ago. They lit cats on fire, they beat puppies with sticks. I just sat on the swing, my pig-tails fluttering in the wind, staring at my shoes.

One little boy came up to me, and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the other kids. I didn't know his name, but I had seen him before. He was the kid who ordered all the other little ones around. I didn't know what to do, so I followed him blindly. He lead me to a little corner on the other side of Miss Sally's Place for Orphans, and looked me in the eyes.

"You're cute." He told me, and I let go of his hand. He grabbed it again, and kissed me. "I like you." He said, and waited for me to say something I never said. I was only six at the time, he was the same age. But, he spoke his words so confidently, it made me feel like I was an adult, and so was me. "I'm going to marry you when I get bigger." He kept saying.

Sooner or later, when I was 13, the place shut down. Every kid got transferred except me and this boy. We were alone together. He had convinced me to never get adopted, but to stay here with him. So I did.

We lived in that place until I turned 25. But we were never alone. The black creatures came and went, telling me where to go, ordering me to do unspeakable things. I think they told the boy things too, because he always knew that same things I did. I thought the boy was special, just like I was.

But I guess not.

They killed him off on my 25th birthday, two days ago, and I couldn't handle it anymore. He had been my first kiss, my first love, the first person who I lost my virginity too. My heart couldn't take it, especially when they said it was my birthday present.

So I ran. I tried so hard to block their words out of my head, but they kept finding me. Saying things like, 'You've got one more chance to come back with us, or you're dead meat.'

I was already dead, though. My heart was fried, and my brain was damaged beyond repair. I couldn't handle their heartless words in my mind, torturing my soul. And that is why my story begins at the end.

It begins with me running for my life. Literally.

My heart is pounding so hard, it echoes loudly in my ears, making me feel like my head is going to explode any second. I want to stop running - to take a well earned breath, but I can't because every time I turn back around, there they are, following me in the shadows. Even when I'm in pure daylight, they always seem to find the darkest of shadows to hide in. Sometimes that means people.

My feet hurt, and my legs are tired. It's getting gradually harder to lift and take another step. Sometimes I wonder if it's them making me think I'm tired, or it's actually me. I can't tell anymore, and that's what keeps me going.

I check one more time, expecting to see them there, laughing as I try to out run them, but they're not there. Not even in people, because I can tell if they're there too. They just vanished, like someone called off the dogs.

My head is still turned around when I run smack into someone. They're tall and strong and hard, which makes me fly backwards, scraping my elbows on to pavement until they begin to bleed. I look up at the man who knocked me down. His face is gentle, but he's very muscled, very redefined. His hair is something else though. He face just peeks through from dark brown hair that frames his face, along with triangular sideburns.

One toned arm reaches out to me, and I stare at it.

"God.. I am so sorry. Are you okay?" He says, and words just keep spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall.

"I-I'm fine." I say, but I'm definitely not fine.

I look up into this man's eyes, and notice the sadness and the grief of many years hidden behind easy green eyes. He drops the bag of groceries and uses both hands to help me up.

"What's your name?" He asks me, and it takes a while for me to remember.

"I'm Victoria. Victoria Woodsley." I say, and get up, brushing off the pebbles and the gravel dust from my top. I don't know why I do, though. I've worn it for two weeks already and it's a tattered mess.

"Well Victoria, you look like you need someplace to stay. I've got a room in this motel a few blocks up, if you want to stay, I promise I'm not some creep." He offers, and I jump at the chance. I sense as though this man can protect me.

"I wouldn't want to impose." I mumble, trying to act humble so that I don't look like some homeless freak.

"No, please. Impose. I don't mind. And neither will my brother." He smiles, and return the gesture.

"Okay then, but you asked for it." I joke, messing around with him. "I'm quite the lousy roommate."

"I can be too." He says, and I laugh. "I'm Sam by the way. Sam Winchester."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_~And when the cold would tear your life apart, I was the warmth that you had felt~_**  
**

The room smells like blood and gunpowder - a smell I know all too well. It brings back terrible memories of past experiences with the boy and his toys, and I want to run again. But something in Sam's kind smile makes me stay and step forward into this gloomy room with its faded red walls and its ugly comforter on the beds. It really isn't that much better than what I was previously living in before _they_ found me, but the fact that I'm not alone makes so much better._  
_

"Are you hungry?" Sam asks, and it's a cue for my stomach to growl, and I blush.

"I guess so." I reply, and Sam laughs. His laugh his hearty and genuine. He seems like a pretty decent guy - for a stranger.

"Well, after my brother gets back, we can take the car and get you a bite to eat. There's a nice place a few blocks up." He says, and I smile. I wonder why he's being so nice to me.

The loud metallic rattle of an old car gets gradually louder and closer to the motel, and I begin to feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can't control my fears, nor can I hide them very well, and judging by the look Sam gives me once I grab onto his shirt makes it obvious I'm not doing to well at masking my emotions. As soft thumps echo from the car to the doorway, I feel sick. I might throw up if it's them. I don't want to go back, I want to stay here with Sam where I'm safe.

The door is yanked open and a man with an average height walks in, jingling with his keys. His eyes go straight for Sam, and if I hadn't known they were brothers, I would have guessed they were in love. There is a lot of emotion and secrets in his eyes, and now that I'm looking, Sam has some hidden burdens too. I'm thinking that maybe these people are just like me in a way; lost, running, tired, scared.

But then his eyes find mine, and confusion washes over his face, along with this poker face only known among masters. The confusion was quickly covered, but I got enough of a look to understand that this man doesn't want me here.

"Who's she?" He asks Sam, and Sam introduces us.

"Dean, this is Victoria. Victoria, this is Dean."

I stick my hand out and Dean ignores it. He smiles a horribly fake smile and walks past me, throwing a bag onto the farthest bed. I pull back my hand, and turn around. His features are lit up in the florescent light, and I can see his jaw moving in anger.

Sending me an apologetic look, Sam tries once more.

"She's going to be staying here for a little while. Well, if she wants too.." He turns to me, and I shrug my shoulders.

"I wouldn't want to impose." I say, but Sam is one step ahead of me.

"It's no trouble. Right, Dean?" With an emphasis on Dean's name, Sam turns back to his brother.

"No. No trouble at all." He says with strain in his voice.

My stomach growls again, and Sam grabs his keys off the table. I hope he's finding this just as awkward as I am.

"I'm going to take Victoria out to eat. You coming or not?" He asks, and Dean stands there silently in thought.

"Yeah, sure." He says after a long pause, and snatches the keys from Sam. "But _I'm_ driving."

Sam rolls his eyes and retaliates by calling Dean a jerk. Almost in perfect sync, Dean calls Sam a bitch, and I wonder whether or not they meant to do that so normally. Like, calling each other those names is the norm for them. But I stop wondering because sometimes over-thinking can get you into a lot of trouble.

We get in the car, and the radio is playing softly. It's a song I like. Cherry Pie by Warrant. This song has such good memories attached to it, almost all of my good memories, and I don't have a lot. I want this song blasted as loud as possible, so I lean forward from the back seat.

"Can you turn up the volume?" I ask, and suddenly everyone is paying attention to the song as it plays through the speakers.

Dean reaches out and turns the dial on the radio, filling the car with rock & roll and sexual innuendos. I sit back and reminisce in my thoughts. Dean doesn't think I notice him as he smiles at me bobbing my head to the music, but I do. And something in me says that maybe I've earned his approval, or at least some sort of judgement, and that thought alone has enough power to make me smile and show my teeth as I sing quietly, trying not to point out that I hear Dean singing it too now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

****_~What have I become?~_

__I sit at a booth across from Dean. I'm sitting wedged against the window, pressed against the wall by Sam and his huge figure. I seem like an ant compared to his size - he's definitely the tallest out of us all. But I find him more to be a gentle giant; people are afraid by his height, but really he's harmless. Well, that's what I think, anyways.

A skinny waitress with flowing locks of unnatural red hair swaggers over to us, her pen poised at the ready, hovering over her notepad. I notice her uniform is an ugly shade of yellow with a skirt pulled up too high to be legal. Her tanned legs are out in the open for everyone to fantasize about.

Everyone including Dean.

His eyes glide gracefully over her body, hesitating slightly at her chest, but then falling fast to her legs. Lastly, he connects with her eyes, a beautiful ocean blue, and smiles in a way that would make any woman crumble to her knees - a smile that he has used countless times before on different women.

"What can I get 'cha." She asks, slurring her words in the perky tone that says, 'I'm young and willing to try anything!'.

"I'll have the number one salad." Sam states, looking at the menu. Then he turns to me. "What about you?"

I have yet to look at the menu. I honestly don't care what type of food there is here, I just want food. Something to shove down my throat and convince myself that this _isn't_ going to be the last meal for a couple of days, convince myself that I'm safe here.

So I order the large cheeseburger with extra onions. It's always been a comfort food of mine. When my parents were still alive, my father would take me to the old burger joint down the street for a cheeseburger. I never liked onions, but since he died, I ate them regularly to feel closer to his spirit. He liked onions, so eating them is like being with him.

It's stupid, but it's how I cope.

Dean thinks about his order and turns back to the busty waitress and smiles a gentlemen smile. I wonder if I'm the only one who can see past this facade; who can see all the pain in his eyes.

"I'll have what she's having." He says, pointing to me, and the girl quickly jots it down.

"Kay! It'll be here in a few." And she trots away, leaving Dean no choice but to angle his head and stare as she leaves.

He turns back to us with a grin on his face, like a child who just bought the toy he wanted. He nudges Sam and Sam looks like it's back to the same old routine. I watch as Dean teases Sam on how he should have flirted with that woman and Sam retaliate on how young she looked. That comment seemed to have shut Dean up, but not for long. He looks at me, and asks me about my order.

"You really think you can eat all that?" He asks me.

"Of course." I say. I've been eating that exact order for years after my father did. But I understand his concern. I look like a homeless person. My clothes are ripped and stained with blood that over the weeks faded to a rusty brown, my skin is so pale from running and the sleepless nights all alone.

"Are you sure? You don't look so good." Sam persists, and I smile.

"Thank you so much for doing this for me. You don't even know me, yet you're giving me food and a place to stay." I say, and I look from Sam to Dean. "You can ask for anything in return, and I swear I'll do it." I really hope I don't come to regret those words.

"Yeah, well, we've had our fair share of hard times, so it's nothing really." Dean replies.

"And maybe after this we could find a Target or a JCPenny so you can get rid of those old clothes." Sam says, and Dean snorts.

"That sounded so freaking gay, dude." He teases, and there it is again.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

**XXX**

****We dart through isles of clothes at the JCPenny and I silently pick out a few articles of clothing that would last for a while. I pull a cute black top off the rack with the Metallica band logo along with song cut-off denim shorts to complete the look. Dean stares at what I chose, and there's that smile of approval again, crawling up his cheeks.

"You like Metallica?" I ask, and he chuckles.

"The real question is do _you_ like 'em, sweetheart." He relays, and I answer by singing a few lyrics.

"_No life 'till leather, we are gonna kick some ass tonight. We got the metal madness when our fans start screaming. It's right, well alright!"_

It was Hit the Lights by Metallica, one of the first songs on their first CDs.

"Well I'm impressed." He laughs. "Not just a pretty face."

I laugh at his pathetic attempt at a pick up line, but he thinks I'm flirting back. My laugh fades to a small smile, and I go into the dressing room to try on some of the shirts I have chosen.

The dressing room is small, dirty, and an obscure drawing of a penis is etched into the walls in permanent marker. I laugh quietly as I take off my clothes. The scars on my body are everywhere - from the white line that lines my ribs to my upper thigh (the time _they_ pushed me out of a tree), the three consecutive lines on my stomach where a rabid dog attacked me a few months back while I was first on the run.. All sins of the past, haunting me.

There's a knock on the door, and I turn the knob, seeing as I'm already dressed. I open the door slowly, expecting Sam or Dean to tell me to hurry up, that they have places to be, because they probably do.

But it's not Dean, nor Sam.

It's _Them._

"We've been looking everywhere for you." He says. It's only one right now, but there's others. I can feel it.

He pushes me into the change room, hands roaming my body like he owns me. He smells me, and something flashes in his eyes. Something like.. fear. But he quickly hides it, and they flood with lust and blood. Those normally come hand in hand around me.

I'm about to scream, but he covers my mouth with his hand. It smells like guns and alcohol. It smells like the horrible stink of rape. And that's when I decide. I don't want to go back, never again. I want to stay with Dean and Sam because with them I feel safe from Them; safe from it all. So I bite his hand hard enough to draw blood and he yanks back.

"Fuckin' bitch!" He wails, and that's when I scream.

"Dean!" I cry.

Moments later, both of those brave men burst through the change room. And something happens. It becomes scared. He reveals himself to Dean and Sam, and they look at him like it's no big deal, while I'm standing there weak in the knees wondering why they aren't terrified of this monster - why it's the other way around.

"Oh, look. It's the fucking Winchesters here to save the day." He exclaims. "Always ruining the fun."

"You can go to Hell, buddy." Dean says, and Sam takes out a knife. But the knife seems special, I can feel it's power.

He stabs him in the chest, and there's a crackle of electricity erupting in his body, making him shake and fall to his knees. Finally, I feel him leave - die - and I begin to wonder who are these boys, the Winchesters, and why they know about Them.

And by the looks on their faces, they're wondering the same thing about me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_~Thoughts like shadows swelling through my mind~_**  
**

We stare at the body that lays monster-less on the floor of the change room for the longest while. My head hurts, and that's the cue to leave. My head always pains me when they're close, but I don't know why. I just know that we need to leave right now, so I grab onto Sam's hand and yank him to the back exit of the Target.

We're outside and so close to freedom when more of them round the corner of the tall building. I curse silently, and prepare for a fight. Seeing me raise my arms in defense, Sam and Dean follow suit. There are five; I've handled more before all my myself, so I'm confident that we'll win this one, but I know now that they've found me, I'll have to go deep. I have to change my drivers license and create yet another false name for myself. I'll have to disappear again.

"Well, look-y here. We've got our little girl, AND the Winchesters. It's our lucky day, huh, boys?" The main monster laughs, and the things behind them join in. Then it goes silent again, and he speaks to Dean and Sam, looking right past me. "Look, we only want the girl. So, hand her over, and no body gets hurt, okay?"

Sam's look is unwavering - he's not going down without a fight. The anger in his eyes is immense, and I can practically feel the rage and heat emanating from his body. It strengthens me.

But the emotion I feel from Dean is neither anger nor testosterone. It's a guilty conscious. We only have half of his mind, I can see it in his soul. He's battling with his common sense, and I can only imagine what he's thinking. _'We only just met her, we don't need to save her life.' 'Yeah, but she'll die without our help.'_

"You're not getting her." Sam says firmly, and they raise an eyebrow.

"Is that so? Well, I hate to do this to ya, Sammy, but just remember: it was your decision."

They advance quickly, but I'm one step ahead. I take off sharply to the right and pick up the iron crowbar left behind this building. It's rusted and leaves my hands a dull red color, but the dye is not my main problem - the monsters are.

Dean pulls out a gun from the back of his Levi jeans and Sam reveals his knife. We're prepared, and it makes me smile because what I don't tell them is that I've got a little trick up my sleeve. A trick a little birdie taught me while I was homeless over in Jericho, California.

Sam lunges forwards with the knife and just slices one of their cheeks, while Dean starts shooting - wounding them so Sam can finish them off with that knife. Because you can't kill these things with guns or bullets. You need Holy water, crosses, salt, iron, and sometimes some Latin.

But you can also use what I've learnt.

The main one walks towards me. Sam tries to stab him, but he shoves him aside, making Sam fall heavily to the ground. Dean fires round after round, but his power is too strong and the bullets deflect off of thin air. He walks towards me with gravity and death in his eyes, and I hope this'll work. I pray I don't end up killing my new friends either, but I can't be sure.

"You've caused a lot of trouble, haven't you, Victoria. But it's time to come home now." He says, and with a swift movement of his hand, his knocks the crowbar out of my hand. He grabs me by the waist and lets his true form shine through. "You naughty girl."

I grab his head and kiss him, releasing the power I have learned to control into his head, expelling the monster elsewhere. I don't have control over where he went, but I know that he's not on this earth anymore, and the thought soothes my nerves.

I let the poor possessed man's body fall to the wet pavement, and I turn my gaze to Sam and Dean. They're stunned and confused and scared, but I stick out my hand to help them up. Sam takes it instantly without hesitation, but Dean isn't sure. He doesn't know what to think of me, I can tell. But I smile and act like it's no big deal, even though it really is, and he finally reaches out and grabs it, lifting himself up.

Dusting himself off, Sam breaks the severely awkward silence.

"So, what the Hell was that?" He asks, and I sigh.

"Do you really want to know? Because it's better if you don't." I say, and Dean makes a face.

"Look, lady. We just risked our asses on a whim there, so why don't you explain to us why a bunch of demons are so interested in you." He growls angrily, and I wince.

"Those things, the demons, they're after me solely for one reason." I explain, but hesitate.

"What reason?" Sam persisted, and I laugh dryly.

"I'm the Oculus."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_~What have I become?~_

__"The Oculus?" Dean repeats, and I see there's disbelief and confusion on his face.

"That's Latin for 'eye', right?" Sam asks, feeling pretty sure of himself, and I nod. "But what does it mean?" He asks again.

I don't really want to explain this right now. I have blood on my hands and I'm tired. I just want to go home and sleep the night away because I feel safe here with these two men, like they're watching over me so that I can finally get a good night's sleep and not have to wake up running.

But I feel I owe them something, seeing as they did just risked their lives for a empty cause. I can sense it; I'm good as dead. There really is no point in running anymore, they'll find me soon enough and hand me over to Lucifer himself because that's the orders. Once I turn 26, every monster in the universe will begin their hunt for me. I am important, apparently, and they want me some place safe.

So, I sigh and begin explaining.

"Oculus does, in fact, mean 'eye' in Latin, and to put it in the simplest form: I am like an eye. I can see everything that goes on in the supernatural universe. That ranges from demons to Hell Hounds and Angels to God - if angels and other creatures of God actually exist." I'm doubtful in the belief of angels because I've never seen one or heard of one. I've witnessed plenty of hell spawns for my life time, and they are the only creatures I'm sure exist.

But the look on their faces when I mention angels makes me wonder if they've seen one, and believe in them. But damned if they tell me anything. They don't trust me anymore; Sam still thinks I could be telling the truth, but Dean concludes I'm flat out lying.

"I'm not sure I understand." Sam tries to see my point of view, but Dean's emotions are strong, and they affect Sam as well. "What do you mean by, 'you can see everything'. "

I take a deep breath, wondering how to explain this properly.

"Seeing isn't just limited to the eyes. You can see with your heart, and your mind - I'm sure you've experienced that first hand. So, it's easy to assume that when I say 'see' I also mean sense, and feel in my gut." I explain this slowly, and I can imagine their brains whirling around to grasp my foreign concept. "Hell Hounds cannot be seen, right? Well, I can see them clear as day. Demons are only sensed with Holy instruments or obvious signals such as cattle mutilations? I can find them before all that nasty shit happens."

They're silent as they let my words sink in. But, strangely, it's Dean who speaks next.

"So, you're telling us, that if there was a God, you'd be able to see him?" He demands in that tone of voice that begs me to say yes, but also wants me to say no at the same time.

I hesitate before answering. I feel like I'm about to step on a landmine from an old war - I have no idea if it'll go off or not, but I'm brave enough to take the chance. "Yes."

And that simple word, the easy three letter word that could be a lie under any other circumstance makes them trust me with their lives, and I'm not sure I want that. Not at all.

**SPN**

****"Would it be rude if I asked to use your shower?" I say, and Sam nods. He points to a closed door, and I smile, grabbing a towel off the rack by the bathroom and heading inside. I almost forget to lock the door behind me. I guess it just goes to show how safe I feel here.

I strip down to nothing and I stare at my naked self in the mirror in front of me. My eyes have drooped from lack of sleep, I'm skinny beyond measure because I've had no time to eat, and my dark brown hair flows dirty and knotted down my back. It's no surprise Dean didn't trust me; I look like a wreck.

I step into the steaming hot shower and let the fresh water pour down my neck and back. I wish it would wash away all the dirty memories and the sin from my soul because it feels like it can, but I know it can't. You can't wash sin away with just water.

I stay in there for a good amount of time before stepping out and wrapping the towel around my body after drying myself off. I reach for my pajamas I had just recently bought, but realize I never brought them into the bathroom with me. They're out there with Dean and Sam; the thought of me venturing out in only this towel makes me blush deep.

I decide to call out their names, but there's no reply. Louder and louder I call, but these men must be distracted or extremely heavy sleepers. I hope for the second assumption as I creep open the door and step onto the rugged carpet beneath my toes. I spot the JCPenny bag from across the room and quickly rush over to it, bending at the knees and not the waist to reach down and grab it.

I hear the door open behind me and I get up quickly, spinning around to find the intruder is actually Dean with a paper coffee cup in his hands. I'm too busy trying to calm down my thumping heartbeat when I notice my towel is falling open. I catch it just in time, only revealing a flash of my naked front before wrapping it back around, grabbing the bag and dashing back into the bathroom.

I press my back to the door and place a hand on my hot forehead to hopefully cool my ever reddening blush. I slide down the door frame, while holding my breath when Dean knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

"You okay?" He asks politely, and I wonder if he's just acting this way because he's a gentlemen.

But the idea that he saw me naked for only an extremely brief moment creeps back into my mind and it makes me blush and stutter horribly.

"Y-Y-Yeah." I stutter. "You j-just sc-cared me, that's a-a-all."

"Sorry." He apologizes, but what I don't know is that he's not sorry. Not in the slightest. He's grinning on the other side of the door because he just saw my chest, and he's one upped Sam once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_~What have I become?~_

My eyes flutter open at the crack of dawn. It's become a growing habit of mine - one I hope fades now that I'm safe here with Dean and Sam. I hope all of my old habits disappear quickly so that I can once again begin living. I've been dead for too long. But old habits die hard, I guess.

But I don't know I'm safe, really. I just feel safe, and I wonder if maybe the key to being safe is to believe it as well. I'm sure that's not the case though. I can't always be safe solely because I believe in the matter. You can quite easily think you're safe, but suddenly you can become exposed and now you'll never be as safe as you thought you were before.

The thought depresses me, and with a hearty sigh, I turn over on the bed to see Sam's sleeping face inches from mine. It startles me, and I hold back a scream while I try to calm my rapid heartbeat. I fear the sound of it pounding in my chest will wake him up, so I breathe in deeply, staring at his sleeping face. Sam's eyebrows are furrowed slightly, and I wonder what he's dreaming about. I let my imagination run about his dreams while staring at his closed eyes.

His lips are so perfect, a perfect line of moisture making them shine. They look so kissable and tempting that it's very difficult for me to resist leaning forward and letting my lips rest upon his. But I know I have no right, that there may be some other girl in the mix, so instead I roll over on the other side facing the large wooden door. But I can't stay in bed for long. An uncontrollable itch to get up and move takes hold of me, so I get up and turn around to stare at the ugly room.

I had been sleeping beside Sam, and I wonder who's idea was that because I can't seem to remember anything from last night beside the obvious. That the demons know where I am. They can't get to me, I know that too, but I feel like they watch me from everywhere - waiting to make their move against me.

I stare at Sam who sleeps in the bed closest to the door, and then Dean who sleeps in the one by the window. Sunlight pours in, yet it's only 5:00AM. I get dressed quickly while the men are still sound asleep, changing into the Metallica outfit I had bought yesterday. The shorts ride up high on my thighs, and it's frustrating to pull them back down every couple of minutes, so I just leave them. It's no use fighting with something that can't be helped.

I decide to go make something to eat because my stomach is growling again, so I rummage through the cupboards, hoping to find something edible. I find instant pancake mix and I figure it's good for now. Careful not to make loud noises, I add the cups of water and begin frying the pancakes until they become golden brown. I've never been much of a chef, but I can cook something as easy as this.

It's the sizzle of the bacon that wakes up Dean, but I figure it wasn't the noise but more like the smell. Nothing can wake you up faster than the smell of a home-cooked meal.

He rose from the covers, rubbing his eyes, his hair ruffled and messy in an adorable bedhead like manner. He's only wears boxer shorts and a green tight fitting t-shirt that shows off his triceps. He is very attractive, and my eyes linger on his face, sleep evident.

"What are you doing?" He asks me and it takes a while for me to respond because I never expected him to talk aloud.

"What does it look like?" I say, and he gets up, his bowlegs bending proudly. I almost blush as he leans over to see the sizzling bacon, but that would be immature of me. I'm a grown adult, remember? Why am I feeling this childish all of a sudden..

"It looks good." He relays and sits down at the small mahogany table that really isn't much of a table. I slide a few strips of bacon onto a plate along with a pancake and hand it to Dean, along with a fork. He doesn't even hesitate before chomping down into the food. "This is awesome." He says between bites.

"It's only instant mix." I admit, sitting down opposite of him. My eyes turn to Sam who is still passed out on the bed, drool beginning to form on the corners of his attractive jaw.

I feel someone's eyes on me, and I turn back to Dean who I catch staring at my chest. I chuckle and lean into my arm which is propping my head up on the table. Dean can't seem to take his eyes off me, yet he still manages to shove to fork into his mouth. It's an interesting feeling when you know you're wanted. And not just the innocent 'wanted' type of wanting. The type of wanted that can make a woman so confident and a man so cocky.

"You know, there's nothing sexier than a woman who can cook." Dean tells me, but I'm not paying attention. I'm twisting a strand of my curly hair what bounces along my shoulders and down to my breast bone.

"Oh really?" I say while I turn back towards him, a smirk sprayed about my features. "Nothing?"

He seems to take my disbelief as a challenge. He leans forwards and in a rough whisper that makes my heart do sommersaults, he replies, "_Nothing."_ And it makes me want to play along with his little mind game.

I grin and get up out of my chair, Dean following me close behind. I have no real idea of what I'm about to do, but I don't care anymore. I just want to let go of common sense and let my body do the talking - and boy, is it speaking in tongues. I'm not even sure of what message I'm sending to Dean.

I wonder if maybe Dean knows my message better than I do because suddenly he's pressing me up against the wall, his breathing ragged and aroused as he slowly draws his lips up my neck, making me shiver and whimper in the most dirtiest of ways.

I can tell that he would take me right here and now if I let him, but it's not like me to whore around while there's another person nearby, so I push him away, a finger at raised to my lips.

"We can't wake Sam." I whisper, and Sam takes the cue to yawn and roll over. Dean throws himself away from me like I've got the plague and I gather my composure quickly. Sam sits up on the bed and turns his head nearly 360 degrees before locating us.

"Is that bacon?" He asks, sniffing the air.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for all the favorites! They keep me motivated ^.^**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_~Something else inside..~_**  
**

A phone rings loudly in the motel room, and my heartbeat picks up the pace. I was never fond of phones; they're just another way for the demons to contact me and scare me. But Sam doesn't seem to share my fears because he picks up the cellphone and flips it open with ease, a smile daring to tug up the corners of his lips. He's talking to a man named Bobby, and by the look on Dean's face, they're familiar with this man.

"A case?" Sam blurts out, but I can see the shocked expression in his eyes the moment the words escape his lips. He wasn't supposed to say that - not while I was around, anyways. "Yeah. We'll be right on it." Sam finishes and hangs up, an apologetic look on his face.

No one seems to want to tell me what is going on voluntarily, so I speak up. "A case? What's that?" I ask, and Dean glares at Sam, cursing that fact that he slipped up. But still they have yet to talk, so I ask again, hoping it will bother them enough to speak. "Seriously. What's going on?"

"We hunt demons." Sam finally spits out and Dean throws his hands up in the air with frustration.

"Way to slowly ease the situation onto her, Sammy." Dean says sarcastically, and all this confusion is making my head hurt.

"You hunt those monsters?" I question, and Dean just sits there, his jaw line moving because he can't think of anything else to say. Sam looks to his brother for words, but there's no such help, so he just lays down the whole situation to me like I'm his best friend in the world.

"We do. It's kind of like the family business, really. We've been doing it for as long as I can remember. We work 'cases' and save humans from the supernatural." He explains, and suddenly I understand.

"So, that's why you own that knife." I state, and Dean stares at me like it's the last thing he expected me to say, and I'm probably right. I'm willing to bet that if you placed any normal girl in this situation, they'd freak and scream until they pass out.

"Yes." Sam replies, and I get up, taking it from its hiding place under Sam's pillow. Dean just continues with his staring because he still hasn't been able to function properly since I just discovered the 'secret' hiding spot in less than five seconds flat.

"This knife kills demons." I say, twirling the blade around in my hand, feeling the draw of its power and letting it surge through me. I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up from excitement.

"But it can also kill humans too, so don't go waving that thing around." Dean says, and takes it from me, stuffing it in the back of his jeans. He thinks I'm a kid still, not able to handle a grown up's knife.

He is so very wrong.

Ignoring Dean's comment to the best of my abilities, I face Sam, a hand on my hip and fire in my eyes. All this talk about killing those bastards has gotten me riled up, and I feel like kicking ass. It's funny how my mood swings go. Just a few minutes earlier, I was scared of a phone call. But now, I wan't to kill something supernatural and that quick mental change makes me wonder about myself and if the state I'm in is really stable enough to go out and fight with the guys.

"What's this case about?" I ask, and Sam sighs, typing furiously on his laptop, band stickers stuck on the back - probably put there by Dean. Sam doesn't seem like the type to be interested in Motor Head.

"Vampires." Sam says, and my interest peaks. I used to read novels about how incredibly sexy and alluring vampire were, but I guess tonight I'm going to figure out first hand how much those fiction authors are wrong. I sit back down, acting calm.

"When do we go?" I ask, and Dean laughs dryly.

"You're not coming with us, sweetheart." He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and I frown.

"Why not?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows, hoping to find the answer in his compelling green eyes.

"First of all, you don't know jack squat about hunting, and second, don't you have demons after you left and right? It's too dangerous out there." He explains and I sigh and shut up because he has a point. About the demon part, anyways.

They could be anywhere, waiting for them to leave me for a moment before they lunge in and steal me away - back into the shadows. I will not go back there, I don't think I'd be able to take it if I did. I might just off myself right there. My life would resume to be like last time, except I'd be missing the boy. The boy who called himself Derek.

"I don't think leaving her out of this one is an option." Sam says, and I lift my head, staring at Sam, wondering what he's thinking. "We can't leave her alone, you know that. I don't think we have any other choice but to bring her with us."

Dean runs a hand through his spiked hair frustratingly, and he sighs, weighing his options. "Fine. First thing tomorrow we go straight for the nest." He orders, and I nod. Sam just goes back to his computer, a victorious look in his eyes. "Can you shoot?" He asks me, and I think for a moment. I have shot a gun before, but never at a living thing.

"Not really." I say, and Dean takes a deep breath and stands up, grabbing the car keys. He motions for me to follow him out the door, and he calls back to Sam.

"We'll be back; just need to teach Victoria how to shoot." He states and my eyes widen. This is going to be one hell of a lesson.

**SPN**

I'm holding on the to grip of Dean's 9mm Glock 17, aiming for the beer cans lined up on a fence in the middle of nowhere. I'm focused and prepared to shoot every single one of those cans down, but I'm distracted. The wind blows my hair in my face, and I have to move it for the fifth time out of my eyes so that I have clear vision. Finally focused, I pull the trigger back, the bullet shooting from the barrel and hitting smack into the center of the can on the far left.

Again and again I shoot, only missing a few. Dean's impressed, I can tell by the look on his face he tries to mask by a cocky grin. I place the gun down, and Dean walks towards me, a grin played out on his face.

"Did I ever tell you how sexy you look?" He flirts, and I smile widely.

"I think I remember you saying that." I say, and he manages to corner me on the hood of his car.

"Why don't we continue where we left off this morning, huh?" He asks, getting significantly closer to me, his hot breath against my neck making me shiver. He doesn't wait for an answer, and begins kissing me instead, his lips parting mine so that he can insert his tongue into my mouth and massage the inside of my cheeks.

I want to kiss him back, but I can hear "Smoke On the Water" by Deep Purple ring from Dean's back pocket, and he hangs his head in defeat. I chuckle as he backs away, answering his phone.

"Did I ever tell you that you have seriously bad timing?" He whines, and I get up, pressing my face close to the phone so that I can hear what Sam's saying.

_"I got a lead on the Nest." Sam says._

"What?" Dean replies, suddenly serious.

_"It's in an old worn down factory. We can head over there tomorrow morning." _

"Got it." And Dean hangs up, turning around to face me. "Now, where were we?"

I push him away with one hand against his chest. "Nope. Sorry. Sam ruined the mood."

"Damn it, Sam."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_~It's driving nails into my soul, angels from my door~_

Something inside me tells me what I'm doing is dangerous and that I should not be standing outside this abandoned warehouse alone with only a machete to use as my defense. Partially because a) I have no idea how to use this thing and b) because just past that rickety old door with it's hinges straining to hold itself in place is a Nest of vampires. Sam had assured me over and over again that nothing was going to harm me. But, his words had no effect to me and he knew it. He was convincing Dean.

It was Dean who hollered and screamed until his face turned at quaint shade of purple. He wouldn't agree - he just couldn't. He couldn't bear to have another innocent, human body to take care of after there was nothing left but the shell of a used-to-be person.

"Dean, just give her a chance. You saw what she could do with a gun." Sam had persisted, but Dean was beyond stubborn.

"No. I'm tossing her in there like raw steak to wild dogs. No damn way."

They argued and bantered against each other until I finally had the frustration to scream.

"Shut up! Both of you!" I shouted. "I don't understand why _you two_ are fighting over_ me_! Shouldn't I have a say in any of this?"

Dean pouted and Sam shut his mouth reluctantly. He paced back and forth, running fingers through his hair. Dean stood there silently, chewing his cheek in anger. Ignoring all of this purposely, I snatched the machete from the table and ran the blade over the tip of my finger, letting the blood trickle slowly down my finger. "I'm doing this. I would feel guilty if I didn't do anything when I could save lives."

"Saving lives is one thing, but risking yours is stupid." Dean stated, slowly taking the blade from my grasp. His fingers just brushed mine, warmth flooding into my hand but appearing in my cheeks.

I turned around, trying desperately to hide the blush. "I.. I'm doing this.. so stop trying to convince me otherwise."

Which is how I got here. I stand on the brink of life and death, Sam and Dean hiding somewhere in the hills over yonder, waiting until the precise moment to swoop in an be my knights in shining armor. I wonder what will happen once I get in there, but the only what I'll know is if I go and find out myself.

I pry open the door, looking around and letting my eyes adjust from the light outside to the shadow filled barn. Taking a breath, I step inside and call out to anyone in this building. My voice almost wavers, but I shut up just in time for it to crack and fail me. They told me not to show them my fear because it only makes them stronger.

I take a few paces from the door; a safe distance. But, suddenly, the small beam of light sputters and goes out with an old slam from the door. I jump almost three feet in the air, letting my fear show through. But I feel like I'm almost too afraid and that thought feeds my anxiety. So, I call out again, and pretend to feel my way around in the darkness, moving the door-slamming issue to the logical part of my mind. I almost start to feel normal again.

Until it whispers right below my ear like a snake hissing to the oblivious rabbit. His voice makes me shiver from head to toe and I let out a weak and pathetic scream - barely audible to anyone but a vampire. "Scared?" It hisses and my knees begin to buckle. Why did I decide to do this again?

"W-W-Who are you..?" I demand with little threat in my tone.

"You know exactly who I am, and I know who you are."

I turn around fast and reach out to push him back, but he's not there. Not anymore.

"Over here, darling." He laughs seductively into my ear from behind again. "Miss me?"

"Stop that!" I say, commanding my voice to come back to me soon. "Tell me who you are!"

"I don't think you care about the 'who', but more or less about the 'what'." I can hear him grin maleficent. "I'm a vampire."

I gulp. "They don't exist. You're just a freak with a blood fetish." I tell myself more than him. I know Sam and Dean are just waiting for the signal, but I'm absolutely terrified. My body's been reduced to a shivering glob and my voice crumbled by the second. Also, what's the keyword?

"Wanna test that theory?" He demands, and I feel hands pushing my up against a wall I had no idea was merely a few feet to the right of me.

His mouth devours mine, tongues dueling as I protest roughly. He unbuttons my blouse and pushes it off my shoulders as I struggle under his touch. I try to cry out the keyword - _anything_, but I can't breath against his lips so my words smother into the darkness. His hands smooth under my legs and up my outer thighs, then move to cup ass. I have no idea how he slipped my pants off, but I can't do anything about it.

"S-Stop." I beg as he forces my back to arch towards his chest. "Don't!-" I begin but I feel fangs nibble at my neck and I gasp.

He flicks the claps of my bra open and slides the straps down my arms. His mouth follows along the line of my shoulder, hot and wet, and I shudder. Screw keywords. I want this to stop and I have my chance. I reach behind me to my machete that I'm surprised the monster hasn't discovered it yet, but when he does, it's too late. His head bounces heavily against the cement floor.

Sam and Dean choose that time to burst in the doorway, letting the light pour in and shine on me. What a sight I must be. My blouse against the wall along with my pants and my bra undone and slipping off in a provocative manner while blood drips down my chest and my arms.

But I have nothing to say to them, so I walk to the wall, grab my clothes while I re-clasp my bra and stride away with as much pride as I can muster. It's practically nothing because I feel like crying into someone's shoulders. I feel disgusting and far more dirty than this blood makes me appear to be. Dean wants to tell me something but the rest of the vampires are up from the scent of the blood and they have things to take care of.

So I walk back to the Impala.

Alone.


End file.
